Staking a Claim
by everlovingdeer
Summary: "Would you stop that," I hissed as Slughorn finished talking, "You're drawing so much attention to us." "I can't help it," she insisted, "You've only gone and got yourself a secret admirer, of all things. Who do you think it is?"
1. Staking a Claim

"There aren't many people here," Susan whispered in my ear as we headed into the potions classroom and after a quick head count, I realised that only 13 of us had managed to advance into N.E.W.T level potions this year.

"It's more than there would have been had Snape been teaching it," I muttered back as we took a seat in the seats we had practically reserved since our first year. "If Snape had still been professor then there's no way that Potter and Weasley would be in here."

"It's a good thing Snape doesn't teach potions anymore." We watched as Professor Slughorn walked towards the front of the class, fixing the things that he'd need for the first lesson. "I wouldn't be able to put up with that man for another two years."

"I don't think anyone would," I muttered, scrunching my nose at the thought of the possibility of being in the presence of that man for another two years. And I wasn't even going to take D.A.D.A at N.E.W.T. level so there was no need to see him anymore! The thought alone brought a smile to my face, my eyes drifting around the room and landing on the table where four Slytherins were sat, talking between one another. "And you know the other good thing? Slughorn doesn't blatantly favour the Slytherins so there'll be no chance of them getting extra points for no reason."

Susan nodded in agreement as we turned to Slughorn who started the lesson, talking through what the syllabus of the year would entail and I listened to him, jotting down what I thought were the important details of what he was saying. My attention was, however, pulled away from the older man when something stole my focus.

A piece of paper, folded into a flawless dove, suddenly appeared on the centre of the page I had been writing on. I furrowed my eyes, staring down at the dove before looking around the potions classroom, only to find that everyone else was busy scribbling stuff down – even Weasley. I turned back to the front, eyes meeting Slughorn's as he rose his eyebrows at me. I flushed red, ducking my head down and pretending to get one with making notes as he continued to speak.

My eyes went back to the white dove on my paper and I watched, intrigued, as elegant cursive slowly wrote out my name on the dove. Setting my quill down on the table, I picked up the dove and cast another glance around the classroom. No one was looking at me so I didn't think it was from anyone in the room.

Susan nudged me suddenly, almost making me drop the dove and I glanced back at her. she furrowed her eyebrows at me in concern and I glanced sharply down at the paper dove held in my hand, making her do the same. Leaning closer to me, she looked down at the paper dove with blatant interest.

"What is it?" she asked quietly, lowering her voice so Slughorn wouldn't hear her.

"I have no idea." I shrugged slightly, "I think it's a note."

"Well, open it then." she urged and bit back the retort that I had tried to before she had interrupted me.

Without another word, I gently unfolded the dove, making sure that it didn't tear whilst I did so. Laying the paper flat against the table, I used my hand to smoothen it out slightly and looked at the cursive that matched the one that had written my name on the other side. Reading the words written on the paper, I wondered if they were meant to be for my eyes only? Even if they were, it was too late as Susan had read the note from over my shoulder and had giggled quietly.

Colour rose to my cheeks as I looked around the classroom yet again. Susan's giggle had gained the interest of the Slytherin table and upon making eye contact with Malfoy and then Nott, I hurried to turn around again. I threw a glare at Susan who was making kissy faces in my direction.

"Would you stop that," I hissed as Slughorn finished talking, "You're drawing so much attention to us."

"I can't help it," she insisted, "You've only gone and got yourself a secret admirer, of all things. Who do you think it is?"

I was almost tempted to answer her question, but I didn't. Instead, I pulled the note away from her and took a glance at the blackboard at the front of the classroom.

"It looks like we're brewing a Draught of Living Death," I said, flicking to the appropriate page in my textbook, "Apparently Slughorn's going to give the student that does the best a vial of Felix Felicis."

"Well that's hardly going to be us," Susan muttered as she rose to her feet, "Not with wonder boy Potter in the same room."

"That's true."

We both get on with our potion brewing and frankly it was a disaster. But, one good thing about the potion brewing not turning out as I hope was that my mind didn't wander to the note lying at the bottom of my school bag. Although, the matter did stand, who sent the note? Merlin, if it was someone in my Potions class then I would potentially die of embarrassment – they could have been watching my reaction as I read the note for the first time.

My potion started bubbling violently, pulling me from my thoughts. It _definitely_ wasn't supposed to be doing that. I scrambled to fix the potion.

 ** _How can someone make looking confused so adorable? Did my suddenly appearing note surprise you? Hopefully you're not too creeped out by this as there's many more to come._**

 ** _See you soon, my little badger_**

 ** _From your secret admirer_**

Unable to help myself, I turned to look at the Slytherins at the back of the classroom. Or rather, at one particular Slytherin. Since arriving at Hogwarts, I had only heard Nott speak a handful of times – the boy preferred to keep to himself and could, more often than not, be found with his head buried in a book. It was obvious that he was a man of few words, could he perhaps –

I dismissed the thought. But _merlin_ did I wish it was him.

Nott looked up from his cauldron, eyes meeting mine instantly as my own widened with embarrassment. I hadn't thought he'd catch me looking at him. He arched an eyebrow and I turned quickly, facing my own cauldron.

"How bloody stupid," I berated myself quietly, dropping my head into my hands.

* * *

Following on from the disaster that was my first potions lesson, I made sure to not even glance in Nott's direction. He probably thought I was some freak or that I was obsessed with him. Or, Merlin forbid, that I was interested in Malfoy, or even Zabini. The notes, however, didn't just appear during my potions lesson. They appeared randomly in the middle of any of my lessons, sitting in the centre of my parchment. Or whilst I was in the great hall, balancing on the edge of my plate. Sometimes, I'd head up to my dorm to settle in for the night and would find a note waiting for me on my pillow. But, the notes I liked the most were the ones that were waiting for me when I woke up in the morning, resting on the mattress beside my pillow.

Of course this entire note situation was far too odd for me to fully comprehend and the hidden identity of my self-proclaimed admirer was one of the foremost things that occupied my time. It was only natural for me to become curious about him – and I assumed it was a him – and my curiosity only grew more because I had no way of responding to them. Where was I supposed to send the note to?

Although – I had at once point succumb to the temptation to research a little bit into charms that might help me figure out their identity when I stumbled across a charm. It suggested that if I charmed the note and wrote on it, it would go back to the sender. But I hadn't had the opportunity to try it out yet.

The sound of a stool scraping against the floor of the potion's classroom brought me out of my thoughts. Looking up at Susan, I watched as she rose to her feet, gathering her things. Surely, I hadn't dozed off for the entirety of the lesson? I glanced at the clock and realised that I hadn't – the lesson had only started 10 minutes ago.

"Where are you going?" I asked quietly, noticing that other people in the class were rising to their feet as well.

"Slughorn's assigning us new seats," she muttered, looking down at me with a frown. "Apparently, this is his bid for interhouse unity."

"Interhouse unity?" Having packed all of her things, Susan walked away from our table and I was tempted to call her back.

Instead, I watched as she approached one of the other desks in the classroom and sat herself down besides Weasley. She threw me a disgruntled look before engaging Boot, who sat across from her, in conversation. Looking back to my own table, I frowned, wondering who I was going to be sat with.

"You have a habit of looking around the classroom." My eyes widened very slightly at the sound of that voice. It was one that I hadn't heard often but it was one I could identify from all others. Maintaining a façade of indifference, I glanced up at Nott who made himself comfortable in the seat beside me, all whilst trying to get my heartbeat to slow down.

"Pardon," I said quietly.

"You heard me Jarvis," he said quietly, pulling his things out of his bag, "Although, I had thought that I held your attention but now I realise that you stare at almost anything."

What was I to say that? How was I supposed to respond?

I did nothing and instead looked back to Slughorn who started to talk about the process of making the Shrinking Solution. It took some herculean effort to turn my attention away from the man sitting beside me who was listening to Slughorn attentively, showing no signs of being affected by my presence. He twiddled his quill between his index finger and thumb as he listened, the motion catching my attention and I forced myself to pay attention to Slughorn. I didn't want to embarrass myself further in front of Nott.

Picking up my own quill, I started to jot some notes down

· _Solution should be a green colour when completed_

· _Can be POISONOUS if brewed in correctly_

Yet another dove appeared on my parchment and I hurried to take it before Nott could see. Only it was no use; Nott snagged the dove and held it to his eyelevel. I snatched it away from him, mortified that he had seen it.

He raised an eyebrow, lowering his head so he could whisper, "Secret admirer?"

I bit down on my bottom lip, tempted to say no. But why should I have said no? It wasn't as if I had anything to feel guilty for? Except I knew why I wanted to say no. If I had told Nott that 'yes I have a secret admirer' then whatever miniscule chance I had with him would be gone. Only then, I would feel guilty towards my admirer who was stealing more and more of my affection away from the reserved Slytherin.

I settled for, "Why do you care?"

"Did I say that I did?" He leaned away from me, putting more distance between us but I could see that his eyes hadn't returned to Slughorn. They were focused curiously on the dove held gently between my fingers.

Opening the dove up carefully, I tilted the paper away from him as I opened it. Susan had only seen the first note. The ones after that had been hidden from everyone. Something fell out of the note and once again, Nott caught it before I could. He held his palm out to me, showing me the simple silver ring in the centre of his palm.

My eyebrows rose in surprise, taking the ring from him quickly. I'd received gifts that came along with the note before – the occasional flowers and chocolates seemed to be a favourite of my admirer.

"If your admirer is a pureblood then chances are that this is his way of asking to court you." Nott voiced my thoughts and I contemplated carefully over what to do with the ring.

"Him?" I asked, internally complaining that he had picked today to become so chatty. "You think it's a man?"

"Do _you_ think it's a woman?" he asked incredulously.

"No."

Slughorn announced that it was time for us to try brewing the potion and I rose to my feet, tucking the ring into the dove which I hastily remade. Shoving the dove into the bottom of my bag, I cleared my throat and went to gather my potions supplies.

* * *

The following day I found the next note waiting for me, on my bed as I arrived at my dorm at the end of the school day. Dumping my bag besides my trunk and changing into my pyjamas, I made my way onto my bed and drew the curtains tight around it. The now familiar dove was perching on a box of chocolates which I noticed had been imported in from Belgium – they were made by a renowned magical chocolatier. So that ruled out the admirer being a muggleborn.

Setting the box of chocolates aside, I opened the dove with practiced fingers. The message inside was simple; they asked whether I liked the ring and were pleased to see that I had started to wear it. With a contemplative sigh, I set the note aside and wondered whether or not I should bother to use the charm that I had discovered.

Making up my mind before I could second-guess myself again, I picked up a quill that had been lying on my bedside table. What was I supposed to say? Whatever I decided on, I didn't want to make it too complicated. But there was always that doubt in the back of my mind; did I actually want to find out who was behind the notes? Or would finding out my admirer's identity make me think differently about them.

It didn't matter who they were, I decided, I wanted to know who it was.

 _Thank you for the ring, it's beautiful. Although, does it mean what I think it does?_

Deciding that those words were enough, I carefully folded the paper up again. Placing the tip of my wand against the paper, I recited the charm and watched the dove disappear before my very eyes. I let out a breath, staring at the stop where the dove had been previously sitting. The question remained; had it worked?

I would have to wait to find out.

It seemed like my admirer wouldn't keep me waiting long. The dove reappeared in front of me only minutes later and I hastily opened it, my eyes taking in the response.

 ** _I'm pleased you appreciate the ring. And it's meaning? Does a pureblood such as yourself not understand what it means? What charm allowed you to send the note back to me? You've got me intrigued._**

So, I had been right – the ring that I was currently wearing had been my admirer's way of announcing his intention to court me. Yet, how could they do that if I didn't know who they were? The act of giving jewellery as a way of signalling intention wasn't maintained in many pureblood families – certainly in even less half-blood families. Perhaps they were from a rather old fashioned family? Maybe even part of the ridiculous 'Sacred Twenty-Eight'?

Dismissing the thought, I penned another reply under his writing.

 _So it is your intention to court me without ever allowing me to see your face? Surely a man of your intellect is aware of such a flaw to your plan? That being said – I am assuming that you are, in fact, male and due to the complex nature of the spell you are required to cast on the dove, I'm also jumping to conclusions regarding your intelligence. Feel free to inform me otherwise._

The parchment disappeared before I could doubt what I had written and Merlin, the moment the parchment had disappeared, did I wish that I could take back my words. What if I had been too 'talkative' and seemed to scare the admirer off or better yet, what if I had offended them by assuming that I knew anything about them.

 ** _Your assumption is correct – I am a man, through and through. Although this isn't the first time you've doubted that fact, is it? And as for my intellect, I'm no Granger, but I can confidently state that I am somewhere up there._**

 ** _Now, if that is all, I shall see you in the great hall for breakfast tomorrow morning. I'll be the one in green and silver._**

 ** _Goodnight._**

I pouted at his words, realising that he didn't want to continue talking with me. But, I realised with a start, he had given me some information about himself. He was a Slytherin, and whilst that narrowed down the number quite a bit, the number of male students in Slytherin house were large. Merlin, what would I do if I had been talking to a first year all this time?

He'd mentioned Granger – was he perhaps in my year? That narrowed the list down even further and the chance that he was actually Nott grew even more. The tell-tale butterflies erupted in the pit of my stomach but before I could get excited, I reminded myself that there were other Slytherins in my year.

Oh God – what if it was either Crabbe or Goyle – what would I do then? Except I didn't think they had the intelligence to write so eloquently – perhaps someone was ghost writing for them? This would quickly become a nightmare. I needed to meet my admirer face to face and see who it was, hoping with every fibre of my being that it was Crabbe or Goyle, or _Malfoy._

I hurriedly wrote on the parchment.

 _Wait, before you go to sleep, I have something that I wish to ask of you._

 ** _Ask away,_** I could just imagine the slightly cold sounding, yet indulgent sigh Nott would give, **_I cannot deny you anything. I shall move the heaven and earth to give you whatever it is that you wish for._**

His words made me doubt myself – perhaps this wasn't Nott, at all. I doubted that he possessed the ability to say, let alone write, things like that. Staring contemplatively down at the parchment, I reassured myself that we _did_ need to meet. After all, how long was this going to go on for?

 _Can we meet?_

There was no response from him.

* * *

Days passed without any sign of a note from my Slytherin secret admirer and I'd come to the conclusion that I had managed to scare him off by asking to meet face to face. I tried to ignore the disheartening feeling that took over me whenever I thought about the notes but perhaps I wasn't doing such a good job. Susan had picked up on my unusual mood and had gone about trying to cheer me up – except I wasn't upset, right?

We walked side by side, into our potions classroom and regretfully separated to head off to our own desks. Approaching my desk, my footsteps slowed slightly as I saw the dove shaped note waiting for me with a potions vial beside it. Once I had arrived at the table, I sat down and put my bag aside, reaching for the note instantly.

Pushing aside the trepidation brewing inside of me, I opened the dove to read what he had to say this time.

 ** _It's been a while._**

 ** _Did you miss receiving my notes? Some selfish part of me hopes that you did because that means that you at least feel something for me and that, I can work with. There was no need for you to worry about my lack of contact – I was working on something that will allow us to meet but also hide my identity from you. I do not think I am ready to let you see my identity yet, I fear you might run away._**

 ** _The potion that I have sent you along with this note should help us both get what we want. I want you to wait for me outside of the Room of Requirement tomorrow after your last lesson – it's Potions, I believe. Take the potion and I shall meet you there._**

 ** _I shall wait for you._**

"Is that another note?" I jumped slightly, looking guiltily up at Nott who stood beside me, reading the note over my shoulder with furrowed eyebrows. "He certainly sounds very emotional."

"Do you know who he is to be making that sort of judgement?" I asked with a raised eyebrow, and whilst to him I might have seemed too touchy about my admirer, I was in fact trying to figure out if Nott _did_ know who it is. After all, I knew that my admirer was a Slytherin and Nott was bound to know him if they were from the same house.

"You're becoming awfully defensive over someone you have yet to meet." Settling down in his seat, he remarked quietly, "It is almost as though you return his affections?"

"And if I do?" I couldn't help but ask as I searched his eyes, "What does that have to do with you, Nott?"

"Nothing," he acknowledged, slowly pulling his things from his bag. Merlin, why couldn't it be Nott? If it was Nott then everything would be much simpler – I wouldn't feel as if I was cheating on my secret admirer who I was allowing to 'court' me whenever I felt butterflies for Nott. "Although, maybe he's in this class? If he knows that you have potions last thing tomorrow, then it makes sense to assume that he shares the class with you."

"It does," trailing off, I eyed him curiously.

"But then again," he said with a shrug, "I know nothing of this situation."

"Exactly," I agreed quietly, watching as he reached out to snag the vial on the desk.

"Is this the potion he was talking about? The one he wants you to drink?" He raised it to eye level, staring at the colourless liquid, "What's it supposed to do?"

"I have no idea." Realising how foolish I sounded, I chewed on my bottom lip. "He didn't really say."

"And yet you're going to drink this? Even though you don't know what it does?" Setting the vial back down onto he table, he looked at me with a raised eyebrow. When I nodded slowly, he sighed and shook his head. "Merlin, Jarvis, you're really too trusting. You haven't met this man and yet you trust him?"

"I think I do."

I turned away from him, not seeing why he was making it seem as though I was supposed to justify my feelings to him. I felt like my admirer was trustworthy and so I trusted him, simple. There was nothing else to it. Pocketing both the note and the potion filled vial, I faced Slughorn as he began to address the class. Taking my things from my bag, I tried to ignore Nott who leaned in close to me in order to speak in my ear.

"Are you not the slightest bit suspicious of him?" I shook my head, still not looking at him. "You are way too trustful – you're allowing a man that you've never met to court you!"

"What does any of this have to do with you?" eventually giving into temptation, I turned to face Nott with a raised eyebrow. "Well? Not to be rude, but this is my business and I can handle it anyway I wish." I found myself searching those deep eyes again, looking for a sign that he knew something, anything, about my secret admirer, "Unless of course, you know something and have a reason for why you think I should be so cautious?"

Nott cleared his throat, drawing away from me as he muttered, "Of course not."

"Of course not," I said with a small sigh, giving Slughorn all of my attention.

* * *

The next day during my last lesson of the day, I was unusually restless and couldn't help but take frequent glances at the clock to see how long of the lesson I had left. My constant worry had probably annoyed Nott more than I realised but I couldn't bring myself to care. I could have sworn that the man had an amused smile on his face by the end of the lesson.

Paying no heed to him as I packed my things, I made my way through the castle until I reached the hallway where the Room of Requirement was located. At the beginning of the corridor, I stopped for a moment and fished the potion from my pocket. Tipping the tasteless liquid down my throat, I waited to see some kind of effect. But there was no obvious one. Perhaps I would have to wait until my admirer actually arrived to see some sort of effect.

Walking the rest of the way down the corridor, I came to a stop in front of the place where the Room of Requirement entrance should have been located. Waiting for admirer, I tapped my foot nervously. At the sound of approaching footsteps, I glanced up to see an approaching Slytherin. Just the sight of the approaching figure who was still too far away to make out, was enough to make my hands go clammy. I was finally going to meet him face to face – but he had said himself that I wouldn't be able to recognise him. How did he intend to make that happen?

When he finally came to a stop in front of me, the answer was obvious. I could clearly see his features, could make out his dark hair, dark eyes, high bridged nose and plump lips but I couldn't recognise who he was. It was an odd sensation, as though I couldn't _quite_ see past a disillusion charm. I knew who he was and my mind, my heart was screaming out to me to recognise him, but I couldn't push past the power of the potion to see recognise who he was.

"I didn't think you'd turn up," the man settled for saying in greeting as he walked up and down three times, the door to the room of requirement emerging from thin air. My eyebrows pulled up; I _knew_ that voice. Now if only I could associate it with a face.

"I was curious to see who you were," I said in explanation, startling slightly when I felt him take a hold of my shoulders in order to steer me into the room.

"Scared?" he whispered against my ear, clearly amused by my reaction. I recognised him then and the joy that suddenly coursed through my veins, warming my entire being was worth not being able to see Theodore's face at the moment.

"Of course not," I said aloud, instead of telling him that I had figured out his identity. I wanted to see what he would go on to do. "I trust you."

"Maybe more than you should," Theodore said as I walked around the room, to see what it was that he had wished for.

It was rarely innocuous – a simple table and two comfortable chairs that faced each other. The table was set out with a tea pot and a plate of biscuits as well as a very familiar box of chocolates.

"I thought we could talk over a cup of tea," he explained as he escorted me to the table, hand pressed to the small of my back. "That way you'll still be table to have dinner later."

"That's very thoughtful of you," I said with a smile, watching him as he made his way around the table to sit across from me, shrugging out of his robe to drape it across the back of the chair.

"How are you finding the effects of the potion?" he asked curiously, as two tea cups appeared before us.

"It's odd," I allowed, watching as he poured some tea into both of our cups. "It's also kind of frustrating that I think I can see who you are but I can't at the same time. But if this is the way you're comfortable to meet, then I'll take it." Adding two spoons of sugar to my tea, I watched him add four – _four_ – spoons of sugar and made a face. He chuckled. "I didn't take you as the type to add so much sugar to their tea."

"You're speaking as if you know who I am," he mused.

Instead of commenting on his words, I gestured to the box of chocolates on the table, "Are you by any chance a lover of this particular brand of chocolate?"

He nodded with a slight guilty smile, "I have a weakness for sweet things." Tilting his head, he regarded me with contemplative eyes, "Maybe that's why I have a weakness for you?"

I made a face; I had no idea that he was possible of saying things like that. Struggling for things to say I glanced around the room, clearing my throat when he chuckled at my reaction. The heat that rose to my face only made him chuckle further.

"I take it that you're not a fan of words like that?"

"It's not that," I protested quietly, looking back at him to see him glance down at his watch. "It just took me by surprise. Is something the matter?"

"I couldn't figure out how to get the potion to last for longer," he explained as he rose to his feet with a sigh, "I should probably get going."

I rose to my feet, watching him as he picked up his previously discarded robe, "But wait –"

"I'll write to you soon – I want to do this again."

"Maybe without the potion next time?" My suggestion had him faltering.

He shook his head regretfully, slipping back into his robe and straightening out his uniform, "I'm going to figure out how to get the potion to last for longer but I'll write to you as soon as I've got it figured out."

I tried to think of words that would get him to stay for longer, to stay until the potion wore off so I could at least end the pretence of not knowing who he was. Theo sighed slightly, stepping towards me.

Lowering his head towards me, he asked, "Does that sound alright?" I nodded reluctantly, smiling softly when he pressed a quick kiss to my cheek before straightening up.

He hurried to leave the room, no doubt counting the seconds he had left until the potion wore off. The smile left my face as I looked back to the two full cups of tea.

This couldn't go on for much longer; I needed to do something.

* * *

'Something' it turned out would be sending a letter to him first. I couldn't claim that the idea had been mine because it hadn't. It had been Susan's who, once I had let her in on the situation, had been mildly annoyed that I'd kept it hidden from her. Her annoyance soon faded and she was all for coming up with a plan to help me end the façade.

Merlin, she was so into it that she had even helped me pen the letter that I was going to send to him. The letter ended up having five separate drafts until we decided on which would be the right one to send. It was safe to say that we had looked odd, the two of us crowded around a table in the middle of the common room. Whenever someone had tried to approach us, we had hurried to hide the letter and poor Ernie, whose curiosity had gotten the better of him, had been chewed out by Susan for trying to read the letter over my shoulder.

But once we had decided on what to write in the letter – which was me basically telling Theo that I knew he was the one behind all of this – I had woken early the next morning. Changing quickly into my uniform and getting ready for the day, I made my way out of the common room in record time. It was still too early for most of the other students to be out and about, but I didn't care.

Instead, I focused on making my way to the owlery. Once I had entered the room, my owl flew down from her perch when she recognised me.

"This is a very important job," I said quietly, stroking my fingers over her head as I handed her the letter. "This is for Theodore Nott. Deliver this for me and I promise to visit you every day with a handful of snacks."

She stared at me as if she understood what I had to say before taking off. I watched her fly out of the owlery with my nerves on edge – I'd delivered the letter in time. With any luck and impeccable timing, Theo should be in the great hall when the letter was delivered to him.

Glancing down at the watch on my wrist, I realised that it was time for breakfast and hurried to the great hall, taking a seat between Susan and Hannah when I arrived. Taking a deep breath to slow my rapidly beating heart, I helped myself to a slice of toast.

"Did you get there in time?" Susan asked as I took a bite of my toast.

Nodding my head, I swallowed before saying, "Now all we have to do is wait."

"Merlin's beard," she said suddenly as if she had just recalled something of great importance. Leaning in close to me, she lowered her voice and said, "But what if it's not him and you've just made a massive fool of yourself."

"Susan," I whined quietly, giving her a look, "Don't say things like that – you're going to make me sick with worry. But I'm sure it's him."

"I doubt you have anything to worry about anyway," she assured me as she turned back to her lunch. It was a bit late to be reassuring me, I thought giving her an annoyed look.

I focused instead on looking to the windows in anticipation for the deliverance of the letters. My attention shifted from the window to my plate when Susan nudged me, gesturing to the dove perched on the edge of my plate and a very familiar looking potion which rested on the table top.

 ** _It took pulling an all-nighter but I managed to get the potion to last for over an hour. Maybe we could meet tonight? The same place, at the same time?_**

Looking up from the note, I glanced at the Slytherin table, looking for Theo just in time to see my owl drop the letter in front of him. He picked up the letter with curious fingers, and broke the seal on the back. His eyes roamed across the paper, taking in the words and I could feel my heartbeat begin to pick up as tension filled me. Now, I just needed to wait to see how he would react.

Coming to the end of the letter, he folded it back up and placed it inside of the envelope again. I frowned, disappointed by his reaction. But then again, did I expect him to make some sort of scene in the great hall? I should have known he wasn't the sort of person to –

He looked to the Hufflepuff table, eyes finding mine instantly. I couldn't look away from his eyes, I wouldn't. Theo smiled all of a sudden, the one action filling his face with warmth as he rose to his feet. Gesturing for me to follow after him, he headed out of the great hall.

"Well what are you waiting for?" Susan, having followed the interaction asked, "Go after him."

"Give me a second," I muttered, picking up the note and potion vial before making my way out of the great hall.

Stepping out of the double doors, I scanned the corridor, looking for any sign of him. He was there, leaning against the wall as he waited and at the sight of me, he pushed away from the wall. When he made no move to approach me, I made my way over to him and closed the distance between us.

Before I could say anything, or ask him anything, he startled me by pressing a chaste kiss on my lips. He drew back a little, chuckling when he saw that my eyes were wide, still startled by the abruptness of the action.

"How did you figure it out?" he asked quietly, still making no move to draw fully back from me.

"I recognised you voice," I responded just as quietly, biting my lips rather self-consciously.

"How?" His surprise was obvious but the smile wouldn't leave his face.

"I'm not sure," I admitted with a shrug, "I just did."

"Well I'm glad." His hands came up to frame my face, thumbs rubbing across my reddening cheeks, "Salazar, am I glad you did."

"I still don't understand why you made that fuss about me being too trusting if it was you all along," I protested as his lips began to make another descent towards mine.

"Because you really are too trusting, but don't worry, I'm cynical enough for the both of us." Glancing down at the potion that was still clasped in my hand, he chuckled slightly, the sound light and carefree, "I don't think we need that anymore."

"No, we don't."

He took my lips in another kiss before I could contradict his words. This one last longer than the first and was much less chaste.


	2. Epilogue

_3 YEARS LATER_

The more I got to know my boyfriend, the more I understood why he was so reserved and why he kept to himself so much. His childhood, from what I had heard of it, had been horrendous. Growing up in a household where your father was one of Voldemort's servants would have been difficult for anyone.

I didn't have the innocence to believe that my boyfriend was some sort of saint. Growing up around the prejudice, like he had, was sure to have affected him in some way but one thing that I knew for sure was that he was never a death eater. He had never been and had rather, funnelled information from Voldemort's camp itself in order to aid Harry. His father, having escape from Azkaban, had subjected his son to an cruciatus curse for his treachery and when hearing that, I could understand the untimely death of Theo's mother when he had been a child. Perhaps the rumours about Mrs Nott dying at the hands of her husband had some merit, after all.

Theo often suffered nightmares that woke me up during the night and it took a long time for him to truly calm down. Even then, despite my concern, he wouldn't speak of what it was that had caused his nightmares, he never did. That didn't mean that I didn't know the cause. Theo's father plagued his nightmares and it was so incredibly frustrating to watch from the side-lines as he kept everything bottled up inside of him. How was I to help him if he never opened up?

I was awoken again, just as I had been the night before, at the sound of whimpers coming from the other side of the bed. Rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I grabbed my wand from the bedside table to light the lamps in the room. Turning to face Theo, I brushed my hand through his hair to try and calm him without waking him up.

Like always, it was of no use. He startled awake at the simple contact, limb jerking out as if to strike an invisible enemy only to return to his side when he met my eyes. Lowering his eyes form mine, he shielded his emotions behind a pretence of being calm.

I said nothing, continuing to run my hand through his hair because I knew he would eventually move towards me when he was ready to seek contact. Sure enough, after a few moments when he had managed to steady his breathing a little, he moved closer to me. His hands gripped my waist tightly, holding me to him as if I was going to run away at any moment. Burrowing his head into my neck, he released a shaking breath and I wrapped my arms around him in return.

My hands rubbed up and down his back, reaching up to play with the hair at the nape of his neck at every upwards stroke. Slowly, the tension eased out of his form, his hold on me softening gently as his hands moved to cradle me against his chest.

"I'm sorry," he apologised, just like he always did. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"Stop apologising," I said gently, "I don't mind being here to comfort you."

"That's just because you like hugging me," he muttered against my neck and I could feel his lips curve upwards into a smile. "Admit it."

"Maybe." Smiling gently, I cautiously proceeded, knowing just how likely he was to back off when I asked, "What was it this time?"

I had been right; he backed off, disentangling himself from me as he moved to his side of the bed. Looking up at the ceiling, he asked rather harshly, "How many times have I told you to stop trying to fix me? I'm not broken."

"I'm not," I protested, reaching out towards him. He flinched away from me and I brought my hand back to my side, "Honestly Theo, I know you're not broken. I'm just trying to help you but I can't if you keep shutting yourself off from me in this way. It's not healthy for you keep waking up in the middle of the night like this and it's certainly not good for you to keep locking me out whenever it happens."

"Why the hell do you care so much?" he demanded, the fight draining out of him as he threw a hand over his eyes.

"Because I love you Theo." Wasn't it obvious?

"I know you do," he sighed, lifting his arm to look at me. "And I love you too."

"Are you sure?"

"What kind of dumb question is that?" He raised an eyebrow as he moved closer to me. Taking my hand, he pressed a kiss to my fingers, lips pressing to the ring that I still wore. "You know I do, it's just that –"

"You become defensive," I said before he could, "And that's the way you were raised to behave. I know, Theo but there's something you need to understand, your father isn't here. He's locked up in Azkaban and he can't hurt you anymore."

"He managed to escape the first time," he pointed out, playing with my fingers to avoid looking me in the eyes.

"Is that what you're worried about? Him getting out of Azkaban? Because you shouldn't be – the ministry increased security around the prison."

"I know, I know," he sighed as he pressed another kiss to my hand before dropping it. He opened his arms for me and I went into them, not seeing him extinguish the lights with a wave of his hand. Holding me tight against him, he burrowed his nose into my hair, taking a deep breath, "I just can't help but worry."

"Well let me help you from now on." I mumbled against his chest, hearing the way his breathing was beginning to deepen as sleep approached him.

"I will, I promise," he mumbled the words against my forehead, already half asleep.


End file.
